


Jack Takes a Catalogue (JackSepticEye One-Shot)

by SJWrites



Category: Jacksepticeye (RPF), Sean McLoughlin - Fandom, Youtube (RPF)
Genre: Cuddles, F/M, Friendship, Love, Past Abuse, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SJWrites/pseuds/SJWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm making a catalogue." He replies, tracing his pointer finger down the long line on her thigh before glancing to her face. It holds confusion and some semblance of wonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack Takes a Catalogue (JackSepticEye One-Shot)

**Author's Note:**

> Elliot is an OC I have, and I kinda wanna turn this into a story.  
> Trigger warning for past abuse.  
> Elliot is represented in my head by Taylor Momsen of The Pretty Reckless.  
> Also, cussing. 
> 
> Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?

Jack should feel creepy, staring at Elliot like this. But he can't help it. 

She's just so goddamn wonderful. 

Jack remembers before, before Trevor, before she disappeared, when her hair was a deep chocolate brown and fell in curly tresses down her back. Now, though, Elliot's hair is permanently straightened and bottle blonde. 

It suits her, though. 

Jack's eyes trace over her face, soft and gentle with sleep and he chuckles when he spots the remnants of black eyeshadow and eyeliner on her lid; the same eyelids that hide bright, mint green eyes. 

Although, the face is not the same as he remembers. It's marred with violence and anger, which makes Jack sick to his stomach. 

He has to force himself to look away, tracing down her throat and he silently thanks god for the outfit she fell asleep in. 

Again, he feels creepy, but really. She's his best friend. It's not like he hasn't kissed her, or caressed her cheek, or felt her warmth pressed against his body as they swallowed each other's moans...

No, Jack can't think about this. He shakes the thought from his head. That was almost ten years ago. Jack had to let it go. 

Back to her outfit. If you could call it that. It was simply Elliot's bra and a pair of Jack's newer boxers. 

Jack let his eyes trace over her milky skin, over her collar bones jutting out from a year of stress causing weight loss. Over her breasts, causing Jack to blush when Elliot sighs. Her stomach is flat, unblemished and rising slowly. Her legs are halfway tangled with Jack's and he can help but hovering his hand over her thighs as she sleeps. 

He can't stomach the scar crossing over it left diagonally, toward her right knee. It makes him sick, and blind with anger. 

But he still stares at it, feeling the rage building up in his chest. He doesn't even realize that his hand has fallen to Elliot's knee until her voice startles him. 

"Sean," Her voice is dull with sleep, "Doll, what are you doing?" Jack can't help but feel himself relax at the german lilt to her voice, thicker with sleep. 

"I'm making a catalogue." He replies, tracing his pointer finger down the long line on her thigh before glancing to her face. It holds confusion and some semblance of wonder. 

"Of what?" She leans up on her shoulder but he pushes her back down. 

"Of what that fucker did to my best friend." The words are pollution in his tongue. Best friend, nothing less, nothing more. He traces the scar gently, "One." 

Elliot realizes what Jack is doing and gently places a hand on top of his. "Sean, please don't do this." She watches his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. 

Jack brings his other hand to trace the x shaped scar on the back of her right hand and says: "Two." 

Elliot resigns and let's Jack take his catalogue of what Trevor had done. 

Across her chest, from her right collar bone to the beginning of her left breast lay another, paler scar and Jack says: "Three." With the reverence of a pastor. Gently, he lifts Elliot up, pressing his right hand flat against the scar from the top of her left shoulder blade to the bottom of her right. 

He doesn't count out loud, but shifts himself to where he's hovering over her, pretending he doesn't see the tears running down to the pillow. 

Jack's other hand leaves hers and lightly traces the scar swooping from her right temple to her right nostril, then to the scar barely missing her left eye, favoring to slice her eyebrow in half, instead. 

The last scar was the worst, still cherry red after almost nine months. It follows Elliot's cheekbone on the left side of her face, stopping barely short of her trembling lips. 

"It makes me so mad to see you like this, Eli," Jack whispers, breaking the silence. Holding her like he is, so close, so intimately, reminded him of all those years ago, how they moved together, moaned together...

But, again, those thoughts are pushed away by his rage. 

"I want to kill Trevor." Jack states, voice and eyes hard. Elliot shivers. 

"Sean, someone already beat you to it." She brings her scarred hand to wipe her eyes, trying to smile. "It's not your fault, you know. You couldn't have known... And I couldn't tell you. The Marshall assigned to me would have flipped shit." 

Jack shakes his head, laying down next to Elliot and turns her on her side so he could spoon her. 

"I know," Jack sighs, nuzzling into her neck, "You're just my best friend and I love you so much. I hate seeing you hurt."

Jack tightens his grip when she lays her hands over his, pushes back into him to get comfortable and says, softly, "You're my best friend, too, Sean. I love you, too." 

Best friend, of course. Only best friend. Nothing now. Elliot's breathing evens out, asleep once more. Jack smiles and soon falls asleep, too, dreaming of when he thought he had a chance with the wonderful, amazing, beautiful, graceful yet strong Elliot Patient.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm watching Ghost Whisperer. This show is the shit, man.


End file.
